


Inexorable

by Faerirye



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 'fatphobia', Aboulomania, Adopted Main Character(s), Alcohol Abuse, Alcoholic Parent(s), Angst, Broken Hearts, Character Death(s), Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Colourism, Depression, Drama, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Dysfunctional Family, Eating Disorder(s), F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Generalised Anxiety Disorder, Growing Up, Homophobia, I tagged all the triggers so you know what to expect, Insecurities, Insomnia, M/M, Mental Health Decline, Multi, Nightmare Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Overdose, PLEASE KEEP SAFE, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Racism, Secrets, Self-Loathing, Sexuality Crisis, Smoking, Suicidal Thoughts, Teen Angst, UPDATES ARE SLOW. VERY SLOW, Underage - Freeform, Vomiting, apologies in advance, many triggers, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:50:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4698071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faerirye/pseuds/Faerirye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calum's life is one big fuck up. He knows it, everyone knows it. No mater how hard he ever tries, everything always comes crashing down and shattering into pieces. And every time it shatters, a little bit of Calum shatters too.<br/>OR Calum has a shitty life, one major crush on the wrong boy, a talent for disappointing people and lethal amounts of self-hate. He's doomed to fail - isn't he? Luke doesn't think so.</p><p>\TRIGGER WARNINGS\<br/>/SLOW UPDATES/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: After it all

**Author's Note:**

> This originally was the very rough structure of original work that I changed to fit 5SOS. It’s literally 85K of angst. Please don’t read if you are easily triggered – I’m not that good at writing but I don’t want you to get hurt. This whole thing is thick and messy and probably isn't worth reading.

**_For[BlueCupCakes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecupcakes/pseuds/bluecupcakes) aka [Alex](http://spliffzs.tumblr.com/). She’s a brilliant author and friend and I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her X_ **

 

* * *

 

> _‘But now the joy is gone and the sadness is back, the sadness feels like something deserved, the price of some not-quite-forgotten betrayal.’ -  Stephen King_

 ***

His hands were thin and calloused. Ugly. Ugly hands weren’t really a common thing, not really something you’d judge someone on. But Calum knew he had them. His nails were thin and chipped, dirt engrained along the openings beside his fingertips. His knuckles stuck out, odd almost swollen-looking bumps protruding out of skin that was stretched too thin, a grey tint to it. His fingertips were shiny and hardened – and it couldn’t be because he played bass, bass wouldn’t ruin them that much. His palms were creased and papery, purple veins showing through the flimsy skin. His hands were living skeletons, emaciated and angular, knuckles raw from when he chewed on them in nervousness. His hands were ugly.

But then again the rest of him was ugly. But with something as small and insignificant as hands Calum had hoped that maybe they would pass as regular-looking. Average. Something okayish, maybe one thing he had that wasn’t so bad. A control, a thing to measure his ugliness against. But of course it wasn’t that way. His hands were as ugly as the rest of him.  Nothing ever went the way it was wanted to though and his hands were no exception.

Society perceived such an off vision of what was ugly that Calum couldn’t even be sure. He knew his hands were not-nice to look at, that they were bony and misshapen and altogether hideous but ugly was something else. Ugly was what the netball team girls would call themselves, ugly was what some model would say they were, ugly was what everyone labelled themselves. It was like you were meant to call yourself ugly, that if you ever suggested you liked how you looked you’d be overconfident and egoistic and someone to be avoided. It was a common thing; you had to call yourself ugly otherwise every person on the earth would come crashing down at you, yelling at you for being self-obsessed.

Calum didn’t deserve to call himself ugly. Ugly was a mild, a normal term. Ugly was the label people used to protect themselves, cast a wall between being liked and not. Society told you that you had to see yourself as ugly.  Everyone called themselves ugly. Calum didn’t deserve that title, Calum was worse than ugly. Calum was repulsive, Calum was to be despised, he was some grotesque abomination the universe had spat out in disgust.

He was so much worse than ugly. Obviously. Ugly was what you had to be. Ugly was for the pretty people. Calum wasn’t pretty; Calum wasn’t anything close to good looking. He had too-chubby cheeks with a nose too big and muddy eyed and thin, floppy hair. His skin was horrible, a colour that probably wasn’t even normal. It looked dirty or something, it didn’t look right. He hated having darker skin. It was something else that separated him from everyone else. Who else was Maori and Scottish with skin that was the colour as shit? It wasn’t just his skin either; it was what was underneath it.  His legs and thighs were made solely of fat as was his stomach and arms and whole body. He was fat. Flubber. Excess sin that covered his body in rolls and folds, weighing him down and proving to the world how much of an obscenity he was.

Fat wasn’t generally a bad thing. People could be fat and still look good. Society forgot that, fat was only seen as ugly. But that was okay, ugly was a normal term. You had to be ugly. And Calum was worse than ugly. Meaning his fat was worse than ugly. Meaning that for him, unlike many others, his fat was a bad thing. He was a bad thing. All of him. He was ruining the world, his existence tainting everyone else. Tinting, dampening, dirtying everyone near him. He didn’t deserve to be alive; everyone else didn’t deserve to have him alive and on the earth. He was a mess, a waste, worthless in every way.

And all he could ever do was make mistakes. It was his fault, it was his entire fault.

He regretted it so, so much. He hadn’t meant it to unfold like that. He hadn’t meant anything, too caught up in the moment to think about the outcome. He’d ruined everything. The world would be better off without him. He knew it would be. He’d been told it continuously for years upon end. He believed it. He was better off dead.

He hadn’t wanted to believe it. When he had been younger he had wanted to defy, he wanted to stay strong. He didn’t want to listen to the voices, to everyone telling him what deep down, he already knew.  He couldn’t be strong though, he couldn’t stay strong when he’d never been strong. He was just a pretender, failing to pass life. He couldn’t do anything without messing something up. He messed up everything.

The world would be better off without him. He was unwanted and worthless. A piece of trash, hurting the universe by his mere existence.

His birth had been a mistake. His survival had been a mistake. His existence was a mistake.

Mistake. Calum was a mistake. He knew it, everyone knew it. Mistake. Calum had been told it for years. Calum believed it. He was a mistake. A mistake that had ruined everything.

Everything. Everything had fallen apart and it was all his fault. He was worthless. He was ruining everything. Waste of space. A fuck up. A mess. No-good, wretched, lazy, pathetic, failure. Meaningless. A vile, nugatory, cheap thing. Inadequate. Pointless. Stupid. Contemptible. A thing to be despised and hated. A thing that deserved to be hated.

He’d heard it all. The words had been drummed into him for years. He knew he was a mistake. He knew he was a waste.

And it hurt. It hurt to be so despicable that your own mother gave you up. That everyone always gave you up. That no one wanted you. No one liked you. He didn’t even like himself. He didn’t even want his own life. It was common knowledge that Calum Hood was unwanted. He’d always known it and so had everyone else. The punches and beatings hadn’t hurt as much as the knowledge that whatever he did, he was still worthless.

There had been people who tried to tell him elsewise, who tried to lie to him and tell him that they loved him. They were trying to be nice – but they failed. Calum knew he was unloved, he knew he didn’t deserve to be alive. He was just a weight to the people who tried to convince him otherwise, he was just a hassle, dragging them down. They didn’t deserve that. They didn’t deserve anything to do with him. They were too good for him. They were angels and he was some pitiful creature left to die. That deserved to die. He deserved to die. He deserved to die. He shouldn’t even be alive.

In account with recent events, with what had occurred really not that long ago, he was surer than ever about his ending. He’d messed up big time, messed more than unusual, more than should be possible for a fuck up like him. He’d broken someone. Someone who deserved only the best. Someone who he’d loved; loved like he'd no other.

Abomination was a harsh word. It really could only be used when talking about Calum. Because, he was the only abomination that hadn’t yet died. Who was still living for some stupid reason. He was an abomination who didn’t deserve life. Who wasn’t even worthy of being an abomination, he was lower than that.

Sighing, he glanced back down at his hands. They twisted together when he was nervous. Nervous. Why was he nervous? Why was he such an anxiety-ridden fool? It just was more evidence to the case that he was a mess. His fingers twined with each other. He could still remember a time where they’d been holding someone else’s. Someone with lighter, longer fingers that didn’t have outjutting knuckles and cracked nails. The hand that had held his had been warm and comforting, a strong grip as if the person was scared to let go.

Calum’s hands were ugly. They hadn’t deserved to hold another person’s. He’d broken that person. He’d ruined everything for that person, and in turn ruined everything for himself. The things he hadn’t already ruined.  It would be hard to find something he hadn’t ruined. He ruined everything.

 He’d been happy. Calum was pretty sure he’d been happy. They’d been happy together. Things were looking up for Calum; he figured maybe he couldn’t ruin everything. And then it happened, just like it always did. Calum had ruined it. Calum ruined everything, it was inevitable. Inexorable. Calum had broken it. He was the only one to blame. He was always the one to blame. Abnormal, aberrant Calum. Calum the weirdo. Calum the maverick. Calum the freak.

After all those years it had finally seemed everything would maybe brighten up. And then Calum had destroyed that chance. He’d destroyed everything. The world would be better off without him. He was just a waste of space, a waste of time, a waste of air.

The world would be better off without him. They’d be better off without him. They could find someone else’s hand to hold, someone with normal fingers and nails that were a normal colour and a normal size and someone who was normal to kiss and be happy with, someone to love.

Because they could’ve never loved Calum. Calum was loved by no one. He didn’t serve love. Calum didn’t love himself. Calum could never love himself. No one could ever love Calum, it was physically impossible. Emotionally impossible. No one could love a freak.

The world would be better off without him. Everyone would be better off without him. And so, Calum Hood was going to go.

He was just a waste of space.

He was going to change that.

 

He wouldn’t be able to ruin things anymore.

He’d be dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. No profit is made. All characters are based on real people, the plot and situation is entirely fictional and not meant to offend. All writing is my own work.  
> All quotes are used with permission by Oxford Concise & Oxford University Press.  
> Please do not republish to other websites, claim as your own work, rewrite or use in anyway.


	2. Dawning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all started in January. The 25th January 1996 to be exact.

> _‘Small is beautiful’ - Professor E.F. Schumacher_

 ***

Calum Hood had been born on the 25th January 1996. His parents were Joy and David Hood; he was the second child of the two, their first child a feisty girl named Mali-Koa. He was an unplanned child. He hadn’t meant to be.

His parents were still overjoyed and completely proud of him though. Calum was small and beautiful and evidence the world could make great things. 

The Hoods didn’t have that much money or time. Children were expensive. But love wasn’t. They still loved him, adored him with all their hearts. They still planned to do everything possible to give him the best life possible. The best life possible because he deserved the best life possible.

It hadn’t been an easy birth at all and Joy Hood was exhausted and tired and hating her son until she met him. He was small and a pinky tan colour with scrunched up eyes and the tiniest trace of dark hair and Joy found her heart melt. Calum Hood was born and Calum Hood was loved and the family of three was a family of four.

Joy had quit her job to look after her children and whilst she loved them and was glad she chose to do that things were still hard. They struggled to cope with things, to find a way to make things work out. But they’d do it. They could do it. They’d never stop trying.

Mali had been overjoyed when she heard she was going to get a brother but looking at the small blob in her mother’s arms she decided she didn’t want one. David had chuckled and told Mali-Koa that Calum was staying and they could never give him away and she needed to be a brave, strong girl she normally was to help her mum and her brother. And Mali preened at being told she was brave and agreed that she’d give Calum a chance but only if he didn’t steal her stuff.

He didn’t steal her stuff. He didn’t do anything. He was just a blob that sat in her mum’s arms or in his cot or on the bed and who cried and screamed. It was like a competition, who could scream louder. Mali would challenge him and shout and yell and he would cry even more and then she’d get into trouble which really wasn’t fair because Calum had started it. Mali was only competing in the competition, it would be mean to not accept Calum’s challenge.

Joy told her how she used to scream and cry all the time when she was a baby and how she’d been annoying. Mali had complained and pointed out that she hadn’t had an older sister who got sick of it though and wanted to return her because she was no fun. Joy had laughed and explained when Calum got older they’d be best friends and love each other and Mali and Calum would be a force to be reckoned with. Mali-Koa was excited for that. She couldn’t wait for Calum to grow older so he’d stop being a blob with eyes and a tiny fluff of dark hair  and instead be her loyal backup and sidekick and supervillain nemesis and best friend.

And watching their daughter start talking animatedly to their son about how they were going to play superheroes when he got bigger, but she had to be the Scarlett Witch and Calum would be Toad or someone from the brotherhood but not Quicksilver because Mali and Calum weren’t twins, Joy and David smiled. Because Calum wasn’t planned but he was still loved and cared for and they were so, so happy to have him. Unplanned things often were the best.

His eyes were brown after two  or so weeks and this confused Mali because ‘He just had blue eyes. Is he a mutant?” And that had made Joy laugh and jokingly slap David because it was his fault Mali had such an obsession with X-Men. And then Joy just cooed at Calum whose eyes were the exact shade of hers but so much wider and full of wonder. His hair was sparse but there was the clear beginning of curls and Joy knew he was going to be a heartbreaker and get all the girls and boys and whoever he wanted.

 Mali had wrinkled her nose when Joy said this, protesting because Calum was a blob and no one would want to date a blob. Joy tried to explain to Mali that Calum wasn’t going to stay like he looked and it wasn’t very nice to call him a blob anyway. She didn’t listen.

Mali calling Calum a blob didn’t stop. Even when he didn’t really look so blob-like. But after a while a note of affection came into her voice and it was a nickname instead of her just teasing her brother. It was still slightly teasing him. He was her brother, she was allowed to tease him.  She would also call him Robin – as suggested for a name by her Grandma. Joy would roll her eyes at this – ‘Robin Hood’. Mali didn’t even know who Robin Hood was. She just liked to annoy Joy. And Joy would tickle her in response and tell her she’d have to be called ‘Marian’ or another English name from that era but Mali didn’t mind so much because Marian Carlyle was an alternate version of Rouge from the X-Men and it would be cool to have the same name as her. Even if Rouge’s real name was Anna-Marie and she didn’t have a surname. Or she might do but Mali didn’t know what it was.

X-Men were a big part of Mali’s life and she made Calum an X-Men mobile of crayoned drawings from Kitty Pryde’s Free X-Men comics. And okay, maybe she didn’t put all of them on it but there were a lot of Free X-Men. And besides she had a good reason for not putting them all on! Who would want Banshee? He was stupid!

It was David who got Mali into the X-Men and although Joy would tut and roll her eyes it made her happy to watch her husband and their daughter bonding over something with equal passion (Maybe Mali a little more) and she hoped Calum would have something like that.

And it was true that maybe Calum wouldn’t like X-Men and maybe he wouldn’t be boyish and maybe he wouldn’t want to spend time with his family, maybe he would think his parents were lame or maybe he’d prefer to play dolls than football or maybe he’d prefer football to dolls but that wouldn’t stop Joy loving him any less.

Joy and David loved their son with all their hearts and wanted the best for him as only he deserved. And the days and weeks passed and although it was hard they were still so, so grateful. Calum Hood was going to be a beautiful, incredible son and they’d be proud of him no matter what happened. They promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I gave Mali an obsession with the X-Men. I have no excuse for this apart from the fact I love X-Men myself and wanted them there. I personally don’t think Banshee is stupid. Not that much anyway. If you couldn’t tell, the chapters are going to be telling Calum’s life and what happened before the Prologuey part. And, yes, they’ll get longer as this goes on and Calum grows up. You can’t really write much from a new-borns point of view – reason there is a Hood families view instead. 
> 
> Mali’s 4/5 here I think. Maths isn’t my strong point. 
> 
> All X-Men characters mentioned & the brand ‘X-Men’ itself are products of Marvel Entertainment and belong to Marvel Entertainment, Jack Kirby, Axel Alonso & Stan Lee. 
> 
> Please comment and tell me your opinions. I would love to know how shit you think this is!
> 
> This is a work of fiction. No profit is made. All characters are based on real people, the plot and situation is entirely fictional and not meant to offend. All writing is my own work.  
> All quotes are used with permission by Oxford Concise & Oxford University Press.  
> Please do not republish to other websites, claim as your own work, rewrite or use in anyway.


	3. Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything always falls apart.  
> Even the happiest of families

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School starts again tomorrow. So I decided to update because when school starts I'll probably forget all about this.

 

> _‘O quam cito transit gloria mund’_
> 
> _/Oh how quickly the world’s glory passes away/_
> 
> _\- Thomas A. Kempis_

 ***

At eight months, three days and around five hours old Calum Hood was an orphan. He had a sister Mali-Koa, a bed in the local orphanage and a spot in the paper – ‘CHILDREN’S PARENTS KILLED IN FREAK ACCIDENT’.

Joy and David Hood had died on the 28th September 1995. They had been driving back from a work dinner hosted by David’s boss. Mali and Calum were staying with a neighbour, Alex Middalry who was close friends with Joy and had three children of her own. The weather had taken an unexpected turn, the fiercest winds had picked up and the rain was pouring down. The road was dark and slippery and David was driving carefully as to not cause any accidents.

But thunder was booming overhead and lightning was crackling and it was a full blown storm and it wasn’t the roads that were the trouble. Lightning is a funny thing, static electric charges tossed down from the heavens to obliterate anything in their paths. Lightning strikes trees because they are tall. Lightning tries to follow the least path of resistance. Also meaning they try to follow anything that is close to the origin of the lightning.

Trees are pretty things. Often planted around roads and high industrial areas to help take away Carbon Dioxide and attract animals and give places a greener feel.

Lightning pretty too. So many colours and shapes and how it can come hurtling out of the air so prettily and yet cause so much damage.

A human being struck by lightning is not as common as you’d think. As a child you’re taught that lightning has a supernatural obsession with electrocuting humans. It’s always the key crux in a cartoon or a book – how lightning kills the baddie or kills the sidekick or kills the villain’s parents and that’s why the villains are evil. Truth be told, whilst it can be humans it isn’t always.

It wasn’t humans that were electrocuted that night. There was a Capped Mallee, a breed of Eucalyptus tree that normally is low-growing and found as part of a group. The one on the side of the motor-way was taller than most, with a crown at the up-most top of the branches with a rather closed formation and buds that would grow to yellow flowers when summer came.

The tree was struck and seized up with flames almost instantly. Eucalyptus trees are rich with oil and moisture throughout themselves, notably at the crown. The rain did little to dampen the bright blaze that grew almost eagerly, licking along branches and leaves.

And David and Joy watched it happen, watched the purple lightning fly to the floor and the flames light up where the tree was. If they’d had a little longer they may have been able to jump out the car or turn around and speed away. They didn’t though. Disaster doesn’t follow a schedule.

The tree gave an ominous creak and started to fall, fall, fall. Leaves and sparks were flying through the air, a firework show for the heavens, celebrating what could only be the end. Joy and David were frozen with shock or horror or maybe somehow hurt because they were found in the car, collapsed under the remains of a burnt out tree.

There may have been screams but no one would’ve heard them, there may have been frantic limbs fighting the metal they were trapped inside but no one would have seen them. The car was trapped in the middle of the motorway during a storm and anybody who could’ve been nearby would have just passed the shouts of as more thunder, passed the light as a tree catching fire and done their best to stay away as no to perish.

Cars explode when the catch fire, something to do with the fuel and oil in them. Anyone could explode a car. Anything could. A child could explode a car. It isn’t hard. And trees on fire can explode cars too.

A bright orange flash filled the air, tinder and ash flying like crazy. The rain carried on steadily falling and there was another boom of thunder as if the universe was acknowledging the death of two people who didn’t deserve it.

And Joy and David Hood’s last thoughts remain unknown but there is a large possibility they were something to do with the son and daughter that were staying with Alex Middalry and her three children– George, Rian and Kitty and that Alex’s children had gone to bed but Calum wouldn’t stop crying and Mali was tearfully telling Alex how she missed her mummy and when would they be back whilst Alex tried to calm them, rocking Calum and telling Mali that her parents would be back soon.

And Mali finally agreed because she could remember her mum’s previous words to her – ‘Daddy and I will be back soon. We promise’ and the peck she’d been given on her forehead.

And she knew she’d see her mum and dad again soon because they had said so. They had promised. Her mum and dad wouldn’t lie to her, would they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I messed up with the Capped Mallee. Basically they normally grow about 6m high and are found generally in Western Australia. Not New South Wales. There’s also the fact they flower in summer – and Australia’s summer is in December/January time. Not August/September as I was thinking for the UK. If anyone is a Eucalyptus expert or anything fill free to tell me what I’ve messed up and I’ll do my best to correct it.
> 
> Please, please review. I would love to know what you think and if people are actually reading this!  
> The chapters will get longer as Calum gets older and we reach the time of the prologue.
> 
> This is a work of fiction. No profit is made. All characters are based on real people, the plot and situation is entirely fictional and not meant to offend. All writing is my own work.  
> All quotes are used with permission by Oxford Concise & Oxford University Press.  
> Please do not republish to other websites, claim as your own work, rewrite or use in anyway.


	4. Breaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is a rollarcoaster; things go up and things go down. They mainly go down though. Even when it seems like it could go up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More updates because school is less than 12 hours away and I'm freaking the fuck out.
> 
> (It would be really nice if you commented, you know?)

> _‘_
> 
> _Look…I’m not about to tell you this book has a tragic ending… But there’s a lot of bad stuff coming’ – William Goldman_

 ***

At eleven months old Calum and Mali got new parents.  Or one. Nina Kalinhe was single and she would stay that way. Or so she told herself. She couldn’t repeat past mistakes. Children seemed the best way to get over her past, the best way to start afresh and wash the demons from her memory. She fell in love with Mali-Koa and Calum Hood almost instantly and although Mali was quitter than she used to be and didn’t talk about X-Men anymore, she was still a happy girl. And Calum was quieter than most one-year olds, less fidgety and did less crawling than you’d expect but he still would smile and his eyes were still wide and full of wonder.

Nina Kalinhe was originally from Texas, she’d moved to Australia when she was in her late teens and would like nothing more than to escape the prison Australia had become. She couldn’t bring herself to do that though, prison was the most home-like place she’d ever been. So instead she adopted Mali and Calum. They would be her new escape.

She was a young woman, twenty-seven years of age. Her past was slightly dubious as were her living conditions and job. But Mali and Calum couldn’t stay in the orphanage much longer, there were so many kids needing homes and not enough space. And Nina Kalinhe was sweet and polite and both Calum and Mali adored her and she seemed to adore them.

She did adore them. They were nothing like how she remembered the children in her past to be and although the fact they were children still brought shivers down Nina’s spine, it wasn’t their fault. Nina had just had a too-bad past with too many bad memories. But she’d make new memories with them.

Calum had black curly hair and Mali’s was a few shades more brown. They both had smooth deeply tanned skin. Nina didn’t. Nina was pale and had red thin hair and didn’t look like her children. Even though they weren’t her blood children. She’d still like to look like them. So she dyed her hair dark brown and drew her eyebrows in the darkest kohl pencil she could find.

Calum was crawling fully now and Nina grew overly cautious because ‘what if Calum got hurt’? She couldn’t deal with Calum getting hurt. Quickly she’d grow overprotective of them, of what she’d come to recognise as her own children. She didn’t want to repeat past mistakes.

Every corner that Calum could knock himself on had been covered in tape. That meant every corner. The stairs, the table legs, the counters. Mali would get annoyed and pick at the tape causing Nina to shriek and freak out because ‘Calum can’t get hurt, the tape has to go there Mali-Koa!’

The house was small with only three rooms and a bathroom upstairs and a kitchen diner and a living room downstairs. The fridge didn’t work too well and all the dishes had to be washed by hand but it was still a happy place. Nina painted starts and constellations all over the smallest bedroom in gold and silver over dark blue walls. An old, crumpled X-Men mobile was hung up, the one that Mali had made for Calum when she liked X-Men. Or when she liked X-Men and would admit it.

Mali helped paint her own room. It was light yellow with flowers and butterflies across it. If you’d asked Mali to design her own room a year or so before she would have undoubtedly put spaceships and monsters and superheroes across the walls. But she didn’t want them now. They were for little girls and Mali had to be a big, brave girl and look after Calum. Just like she’d promised too

Although she did pull down the mobile she’d made Calum and crumple it in and throw it in the bin. X-Men were stupid and Mali didn’t like them anymore, she didn’t have someone to like them with. Nina probably would’ve offered but Mali didn’t want Nina. She wanted her own parents. Her own mum and dad who were dead and didn’t come back even though they’d promised.

Nina was nice though, even if she wasn’t her real mum. And Calum wasn’t a blob anymore and maybe it would be soon when she could play with him. Even though he just gurgled and shrieked when she tried to talk to him. And even though Mali promised to herself she wouldn’t play superheroes or anything even when Calum did get older. They’d have to play boring things like tea parties and race horses.

But they’d still have fun. Hopefully. Calum would be Mali’s best friend, she just knew it. And being a brave, big girl was boring when the person you’re looking after can’t even speak or walk. But she was still going to look after. She didn’t break her promises, unlike her mum and dad who’d promised they’d come back and who hadn’t. Mali was going to keep her promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘X-Men’ belongs to Marvel Entertainment, Jack Kirby, Axel Alonso & Stan Lee. No profit is made for mentioning them and no copyright issues intended.  
> This is a work of fiction. No profit is made. All characters are based on real people, the plot and situation is entirely fictional and not meant to offend. All writing is my own work.  
> All quotes are used with permission by Oxford Concise & Oxford University Press.  
> Please do not republish to other websites, claim as your own work, rewrite or use in anyway.
> 
> Please comment and share your opinions. Also if you have any things you’d like to happen or be included – y’all should tell me. Because they’ll be better than anything I’ve come up with!
> 
> Thanks for reading  
> (Here’s a thing. I stole Nina’s name and hair from Nina Calinte on the Sims. Shhh)


	5. Erupting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing up is a long and laborious task and there can be many, many drawbacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Itty baby chapter here......you know you really should tell me what you think?

 

> _‘Too quick despairer, wherefore wilt thou go?’ -Matthew Arnold_

 ***

At two years old Calum and Mali was just Calum.  And Calum couldn’t remember the girl with the dark hair and gentle laugh, the girl who was always telling Calum how they were going to be best friends and that he needed to hurry up and grow so they could be.

 Nina grew distant, the absence of Mali affecting her deeply. She wasn’t so bright, she didn’t smile as much and two year old Calum couldn’t understand why.

The yellow room was locked and left untouched which didn’t make sense because the yellow room smelt nice and Calum used to like it in there.

Nina’s demons were back and even worse than before. Her daughter, her second chance at an escape had escaped her. She was back to living in the dark. True she still had Calum but it wasn’t Calum that had chased her past away. It had been Mali-and-Calum that protected her from her memories that gave her the idea that she could do something good. Which she obviously couldn’t. She’d failed again.

She only had Calum and she wanted to try her best with him but she just couldn’t bring herself too. Mali was gone and Nina had failed. Nina failed everything. The demons were back, living nightmares that wrecked her life into a million shreds and Nina’s life had four parts – The beginning, the dark, the new start and now, the second dark.

People didn’t get third chances. Nina had blown her second chance and she wasn’t going to get anymore. It didn’t cross her mind that maybe Calum, the boy that Mali had been so determined to protect would be her third chance. It didn’t cross her mind that she could do what Mali had promised Joy and David she’d do.

Calum was still crawling, but he could almost walk. But Nina didn’t seem to care anymore. She didn’t talk to him and say things in funny voices; she didn’t coo and tickle him. He was left alone to explore the house he’d already explored a million times. He wasn’t allowed in the yellow room and he had no one to play with. He got frustrated and angry and he’d start screaming and yelling but Nina didn’t seem to care. Calum was lonely but she didn’t seem to care. She ignored him totally, save the days when a smartly dressed woman would knock on the door and look round the house and ask questions Calum was too young to understand.

The mind of a two-year old is a delicate thing. How a child is raised had a huge impact on what the child will be like when they’re older. They’ll begin to think things, take certain mannerisms that can’t be changed as easily as they were made. It’s a delicate mind a baby has. It’s a delicate mind that Calum Hood had. A delicate, lonely mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things are beginning to fall apart. Even more than they already have. And Calum has a delicate mind. I don’t know why but I really like that phrase.  
> I know that social workers would be checking up on Calum and Nina regularly and so a social worker does come – the ‘smartly dressed woman’. Obviously Calum doesn’t know what’s going on so it’s written as a minor thing. He’s two.
> 
> This is a fucking short chapter but Calum is only two and you can only write so much about a two year olds point of view. You'll find out what happened to Mali. Maybe. (I had to get rid of her because future chapters wouldn't make sense if Calum has a sibling BUT I wanted her somewhere in this story. See? Valid reason!)
> 
> Please comment, it helps motivate me so much and I’d love to know your opinions on this and any suggestions you may have!  
> Thanks <3
> 
> This is a work of fiction. No profit is made. All characters are based on real people, the plot and situation is entirely fictional and not meant to offend. All writing is my own work.  
> All quotes are used with permission by Oxford Concise & Oxford University Press.  
> Please do not republish to other websites, claim as your own work, rewrite or use in anyway.


	6. Ebbing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Up, up, up.  
> Down, down, down.
> 
> Things are changing and Calum is growing but maybe none of it's for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all should review for me

> _‘Lay your sleeping head, my love,_
> 
> _Human on my faithless arm;_
> 
> _Time and fevers burn away_
> 
> _Individual beauty from_
> 
> _Thoughtful children and the grave_
> 
> _Proves the child ephermal;_
> 
> _But in my arms till break of day_
> 
> _Let the living creature lie,_
> 
> _Mortal, guilty, but to me_
> 
> _The entirely beautiful’_
> 
> _-Lullaby, W.H. Auden_

 ***

At three years old Calum got a father. He was called Paul. He was very, very tall. Nina had introduced him cautiously, her hand wrapped tightly around his forearm. Her whole body language was tense and on edge. Paul gave Calum a hard stare before chuckling, slapping Nina’s shoulder and saying "We’re gonna be best friends!"

Nina had sighed, shoulders shaking in relief before standing on her tiptoes to peck Paul on the cheek and murmur how "I knew I made the right choice".

It was odd, having a father. Calum hadn’t had one before he couldn’t remember ever having one. Paul was a different name but Calum was excited to have more people in his life. There was Nina and sometimes the woman from next door or the people he’d see in the shop. A woman with smart clothes and hair pulled back would come round still but she hadn’t been in so long. She was annoying though, saying things to Calum and Nina that Calum couldn’t understand.

Nina was absent even more now that Paul was in the house. Calum was confused why he didn’t have a father before and tried asking Nina this, with his halted, slow speech. He was still learning. Words were odd things. Nina would just shake her head and tell him that it wasn’t right which only confused Calum even more, how could it not be right if he didn’t know what it was?

He tried asking more. Nina never replied to any of his questions though, not with an answer anyway. Paul would snarl at him and tell him to stop asking rubbish. Unless Nina was in the room. Because then Nina would yell at him for talking to Calum like that.

So questions were a bad idea. But it didn’t make sense. Questions made Nina and Paul angry, even if it was an easy question like could Calum have toast? Why did questions make them angry? Or Paul angry anyways. Nina was just sad. She was always sad.

Nina went away a lot; she would visit the church and come back with tear tracks down her cheeks and red puffy eyes. Calum was too young to understand why; her behaviour didn’t make any sense to him. But he couldn’t ask because then Paul would yell at him and Nina would cry even more and his mum was already sad, Calum didn’t want to make her sadder.

 Paul had dark eyes and a dark temper and dark hair. He was always angry or snarling, he would shout at Calum for not even doing anything. Nina would shout at Paul in return and Calum was stuck in the middle of it, completely confused to why his mum and dad were yelling and screaming and why his dad slapped his mum, slapping wasn’t nice.

 Nina disappeared more and more as the year grew on and Calum was ignored more and more and Paul shouted more and more and Calum wasn’t happy.

The yellow room was still shut – and Paul and Nina would argue about it a lot more, Paul determined to go inside but Nina not letting him. And one day he was gone and she put bars across it. He came back and laughed at her and told her she was crazy, she only had to say that she didn’t want him going in there.

She just straightened her spine and lifted her nose up. Paul made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a shout and walked forwards, his thick fingers pulling along her collarbone and through her hair, touching her as she gasped.

Calum’s room was still blue with stars. Nina used to tell him stories of stars, he could remember that. She didn’t anymore; she was too busy with Paul or staring in her mirror or not around at all. Calum would hide under the bed. It was safer than being around and being noticed. Under the bed meant they’d shout less.

Calum went with her to the church one day. It wasn’t exciting. She had just sat on the steps and cried. For hours. Calum had tried to stop her, fragile fingers wiping the water that was leaking from her eyes but that just made her cry even more.

Eventually he protested, pulling on her skirt and asking to go home. Nina had sighed, wiping her smudged mascara and looking down at him with a smile. It wasn’t a proper smile though, she was tears on her cheeks and her eyes were sad.

“Calum” She had asked, voice breaking “Do- do you think I’m a bad mum?”

Calum’s brow had furrowed in response. He knew what she was asking but he didn’t know why. And what made a bad mum? What was a good mum? Calum didn’t know. Maybe he’d known once but he couldn’t remember. So he’d replied to Nina, his voice slow with a slight lisp “No. I love you”

She still hadn’t smiled though, just shook her head and kissed him on the nose. He’d giggled and she’d finally smiled but it still wasn’t a proper smile. It wasn’t a proper smile if you had sad eyes. And she did, sad eyes shining and looking suspiciously wet as she bent down and scooped him against her hip.

And she’d smiled with sad eyes for the rest of the night but she had tucked Calum into bed and kissed him goodnight which was nice even though a story about the stars would be nice too. Calum had forgotten exactly how Andromeda ended up in the stars. He liked the story of Andromeda and Perseus and Medusa and the mean queen Cassiopeia. Being part of the stars sounded like a good ending.

Calum had been woken in the night – Nina was screaming and Paul was shouting and Nina was crying and maybe Calum hadn’t made Nina feel better at all. Maybe he’d said the wrong thing. It was probably his fault, whatever had happened. Paul said it was always Calum’s fault. It was hard for a three year old to understand things like this really, but Calum had a clever mind – that’s what Nina used to tell him.

The days passed and nothing ever really happened. Calum would draw on an old notepad or take one of the thick books from Nina’s room and try to understand it but it didn’t make any sense. The pages were just filled with black symbols and there weren’t any pictures or anything.

Calum didn’t really speak that much – Paul said he hated Calum’s lisp, whatever a lisp was, and Calum didn’t like to make Paul angry. He was scary when he was angry – he would shout and yell and Calum would begin to cry. Sometimes he’d slap Calum. That was the worse. Calum didn’t like slaps and Paul was too happy to slap Calum and his mum. When he was slapped he’d try to find Nina, she was the best protection he had. She wasn’t a very good one though; she’d just sit in silence or scream if she was there. Most of the time she wasn’t.

Sometimes she would see the mark and rear up and get furiously angry and threaten to call the police if he did it again. Sometimes she would kiss the mark gently, as if her head was in a different place, and go back to ignoring him. He didn’t like that version of Nina.

His mum was meant to love him and he didn’t even know if she did. She said she loved Paul and Paul was horrible so maybe Nina was mixed up and loved the bad people she was meant to hate instead of the good ones.

But good and bad wasn’t as easy as Andromeda and Perseus had it. Medusa was evil. The king was evil. Cassiopeia wasn’t evil but she wasn’t good either. Perseus was good. His mum was good. The fisherman was good. Andromeda was good. Calum’s goods' and bads' were confusing. Nina was good but sometimes she wasn’t. And Paul was bad- probably. What made a person bad? And Calum didn’t even know what he was. Paul called him ‘stupid’ and that wasn’t either. The only one in Andromeda’s story who wasn’t either was her mum, Queen Cassiopeia and she wasn’t nice even if she wasn’t bad. Calum didn’t want to be like her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things are getting worse. Apologies to anyone called Nina or Paul.  
> Calum is three here and I may have made his thoughts too grown up. I don’t know, I can’t remember being three/four so I don’t know how developed thoughts would be. But Calum’s a clever kid. And had a huge fondness for Andromeda and Perseus. My mum used to tell me stories about them, I guess that’s what inspired this. 
> 
> (And yes I’m aware Andromeda and Perseus’s goods and bads weren’t exactly like that but Calum is three and I presume Nina told him a simpler version. You don’t really question the way stories are told and who is good and bad really when you’re a child)
> 
> Please comment your thoughts and opinions, they really help motivate me and help me see if I’m affecting people the way I want to with this.  
> Nina has gone batshit crazy here and Paul is a horrible character and there is a poor tiny Calum stuck in the middle. I feel bad :c
> 
> And Mali hasn’t been forgotten! You’re learn what happened to her soon! Possibly next chapter  
> Thanks for reading  
> This is a work of fiction. No profit is made. All characters are based on real people, the plot and situation is entirely fictional and not meant to offend. All writing is my own work.  
> All quotes are used with permission by Oxford Concise & Oxford University Press.  
> Please do not republish to other websites, claim as your own work, rewrite or use in anyway.


	7. Flowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is a river, flowing and falling, the journey is adventurous but it always lead's to the sea.  
> It doesn't mean you'll stay afloat though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to everyone who's given kudos's and commented and bookmarked and just read. It means so much to me, thank you <3

> _Tout passe, tout casse, tout lasse._
> 
> _/Everything passes, everything perishes, everything palls/_
> 
> _-Anon (Quelques six mille proverbs)_

 ***

At four years old Calum was too small. He was under average in almost every way possible and it made Nina worry a lot. Nina worried constantly. Whenever she was around, which really wasn’t that much, she’d be yelling at Paul and yelling at Calum’s school teachers and yelling at herself. Worrying.

Paul was a dark shadowy thing imprinted in the very front of Calum’s mind. He wasn’t around as much as he had been but when he was it wasn't good.  He spent his time, calling people ‘darling’ and ‘baby’, people who weren’t Nina. Nina found out and they yelled even more. Paul punched her once; she has a smudgy bruise on her cheek for weeks. She cried and Paul looked shocked. He disappeared. Nina cried even more.

Calum started school and school was scary. There were more people than Calum had ever seen before. His class was full of people, all loud and talking and there were so many of them!

Calum was the small, shy boy who sat on his own and didn’t really talk. He had a nice teacher, Miss Miars she was called. She’d try and talk to Calum and get him to play with the other kids but Calum didn’t really want to. The other kids were scary and Calum didn’t know how to play. He’d never played with other people; he didn’t know how to play.

There was something he could remember, he didn’t know if he’d dreamt it or not as it seemed so surreal – but there was a girl complaining to him, telling him he needed to grow up so they could play. Another memory overlapped this – the same girl screaming to someone how she didn’t want them, they weren’t her parents. The memories – if that’s what they were- were gone as soon as they’d come, leaving Calum pouting as he sat on the carpet, tiny eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement.

Miss Miars had found him like that, ten minutes later. She’s smiled and asked him why he was looking so confused. He’d squeaked and hidden his face in his hands, cheeks blossoming bright red. She’d laughed gently, still smiling at him.

She was a very gentle person. Calum had noticed that. She smiled a lot and was cheerful – and never shouted. Even when Peter Massicavy pushed Bella Damrie off the climbing frame. Which was odd. Paul would’ve shouted. Nina probably would’ve shouted too, freaking out.  But then again his mum freaked out a lot. Calum didn’t really know why.

School was tricky. Calum couldn’t colour properly or do numbers and he didn’t even know how to start with translating the black symbols from the books. Miss Miars constantly reminded everyone to get their parents to help them with reading. Calum couldn’t do that though. He couldn’t ask Paul anything; Paul would yell or hit him. And Nina would probably start crying. All she did was cry.

Miss Miars asked Calum about it, why his parents didn’t help him. Calum shrugged, looking at the floor. He couldn’t say the wrong thing because then Paul would get angry. Miss Miars had promised to phone his parents and sort things out.

Later that night Paul kicked Calum in the ribs twice and yelled at him for having an interfering bitch as a teacher. Calum had hidden under his bed and stayed there for the rest of the night. His dad hated him and he couldn’t understand why.

Nina went away a lot and Paul started leaving the house too. Calum was left alone with nothing to do. He had a reading book from school but he didn’t even know how to start that and there was nothing else to do in the house. He’d drawn pictures before. Pictures were boring. He was hungry, he hadn’t had anything to eat in a while but getting food was scary. Paul always yelled at him for going into the kitchen. There wasn’t really any food in the kitchen anyways. The fridge and cupboards were always empty.

With nothing to do Calum walked around lonely. His mum and dad’s room was boring- there was a bed and a wardrobe and some draws. The bathroom was boring and Calum’s room was boring and the only other room upstairs had bars over the door and a number of wooden planks on top of that. It was the yellow room in there. Calum couldn’t really remember it but there had been a smell he liked and pictures on the walls. He wasn’t really sure why it was boarded up. He didn’t dare ask. Questions were a no. He knew that.

Calum had his first ever Christmas that year. He’d never celebrated it before, probably something to do with the fact that Nina was never in the house and Paul didn’t care.  Now Calum was in school, Christmas was suddenly a big thing. Bunting and snowflakes were all over the walls, a green plastic tree stood in the hall and there were people singing everywhere. It was a strange, new world. An exciting world. Calum hadn’t seen anything like it before.

The class above him, Miss Alver’s were performing a ‘Christmas production’ and Miss Miars was singing songs about donkeys and the year sixes had some sort of gala. And Calum was still utterly confused. What was all this fuss about Christmas?

After break, in class, Miss Miars had read them the Christmas story and Calum was even more confused. Who was Jesus? What had this God got to do with anything? When shyly he put up his hand and questioned, voice trembling ever-so-slightly “Who’s Jesus?”

The class had burst out laughing. Apparently they had thought it a joke. Miss Miars had seemed to think the same, fake sighing and telling Calum “You shouldn’t joke about that”

“I’m not joking!” Calum had protested, brow knitted in annoyance.

Miss Miars face cleared and she looked at him confusedly before saying “Oh. Calum do your parents not celebrate Christmas? Is your family atheist or…?” She trailed off, sounding awkward.

Calum didn’t know what Atheist meant and he only just found out what Christmas really was. So he shrugged, biting his lip.

“I’m sorry” She apologised “If the Christmas thing is upsetting you or anything please tell. I’ll, uh, I’ll”

“It’s not upsetting me” Calum interrupted “I don’t even know what it is”

“Do – Have your parents not talked to you about Christmas or why you don’t celebrate it?” She asked. Even if it was an nonreligious family, normally they’d explain to their child what Christmas was.

Calum shook his head “They don’t like talking”

Something was not right here. Mala Miars frowned and looked at the tiny boy sat in front of her. It wasn’t her business to pry. Even though several aspects of Calum’s behaviour seemed to be making sense – as well as the fact he walked home alone. 

“Oh well” She smiled, false brightness filling her voice. Calum frowned at her, the rest of the students watched curiously. “We’ll just have to have a really good class Christmas!”

Calum went along with it. He didn’t like the concerned way his teacher looked when she saw him, he didn’t like how suddenly careful she was being when he was around. Why couldn’t he be treated like everyone else?

She did get him a big, chocolate snowman on the last day of term. Snowmen were odd things; Calum couldn’t ever imagine having proper snow, enough to make people out of. Miss Miars said the same thing,

“I know we don’t have snow here, but snowmen are a Christmassy thing in the Northern Hemisphere. In England and places” She smiled awkwardly. “I figured you’d like it – and you deserve it. You’ve been an amazing student Calum” She paused “If you ever want to talk about anything you can. I’m always here – and if something is bothering you, you let me know. Okay?”

Dutifully Calum nodded, eyes glowing as he took in the snowman. He stuffed it to the bottom of his bag; Paul would take it if he found out.

The Christmas Holidays passed like every other time Calum was at home. He hid away in his room, Nina hid away out the house and Paul sat in front of the TV.

The chocolate snowman was kept under his bed. He ate it carefully, on the days Nina forgot to feed him. He’d never had chocolate before; at least he couldn’t remember having chocolate. It tasted heavenly.

Nina and Paul were arguing even more, Nina had chucked a glass at Paul the other night. Calum had jumped back, running up the stairs. The argument had raged for several long hours afterwards – until the front door slammed and silence spread through the house.

Cautiously, Calum peered downstairs. Nina was on her knees, staring at the splinters of smashed glass with a blank expression. Paul was nowhere to be seen.

“Mum?” His voice was quiet

She looked up, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Hey boo”

“What’s going on?” He asked carefully, not wanting to upset his mum even more.

“He’s gone Cal” Her voice was tight. “He’s gone”

***

Five year old Calum discovered Mali-Koa. Or the memory of her. Nina was drunk; Calum didn’t understand what was going on apart from now Nina’s abnormal fear of cars made sense. He had had a sister who had been on the way back from a dance lesson. She’d been in a car with her friend Bethany. Bethany’s mum had been driving. They’d been on the motorway. A truck had flipped over and smashed into the car. Mali-Koa died on impact. Nina hadn’t bothered to tell Calum what happened to the other two.

 Nina got drunk a lot. Her breath smelt and she would just curl up and cry and Calum hated it. Paul was gone and she didn’t have bruises anymore. She still wasn’t happy though. She still cried and she still had the odd red lines on her arms – blood they looked like.

Nina had started a new thing where she picked Calum up from school. This meant his teacher, Miss Miars met her. Nina had smiled and said hello, but Calum could see her nervousness and fear. Miss Miars had seemed to have seen it too, cutting the conversation short.

Calum didn’t know why his mum was so scared. Nina would still cry a lot – maybe even more then when Paul had been around. Calum still didn’t know why Paul left – but it wouldn’t be a good idea to ask. He knew that. Nina would get even more upset and probably stop talking.

She got drunk a lot. A lot a lot. There were bottles on the counter and bottles in the cupboards. Calum hadn’t understood at first. Why was his mum always drinking? The school had had an assembly on alcohol – and then everything made a lot more sense. Drunk. Nina was drunk. The bottle labels were hard to read but always seemed to be some cheap wine or liquor. The assembly had had a PowerPoint presentation showing examples of bottles and ‘alcoholic drinks’. Calum was pretty sure Nina got drunk.

It was hard to watch. Calum was five and couldn’t understand why someone would want to drink so much. The presentation said it made people forget things. Calum couldn’t understand what Nina would want to forget. Paul was gone now – and there had been the whole thing with Mali-Koa but that had been years ago. Nina should be getting better – but she wasn’t. She still spent as much time in front of the mirror, staring into the glass in silence. She still would disappear for hours upon end.

She was always late to picking Calum up from school and she ignored him at home and suddenly she wasn’t worried about him anymore. She had been worried before. She used to worry constantly, Calum knew she did. She couldn’t be now because she was ignoring him.

Calum was used to being alone and not paid attention too but when Paul left it had seemed she might spend time with him again. She might tuck him up and make him breakfast and tell him stories and kiss him goodnight.

Calum spent his time on his own, in his tiny room that had stars painted on the blue walls that Nina had done a long time ago, when she was happy and nice and cared about Calum. She never came in his room. The paint was faded and the stars were being to scratch off. There weren’t any more stories about Andromeda and Perseus; there hadn’t been stories in ages. There hadn’t even been talking. The house once filled with shouting was ow filled with silence. But it wasn’t a nice silence. It was uncomfortable and harsh and brought too much loneliness.

The yellow room still had bars across. He knew what it was now, what it had been. Mali-Koa had been in there once. His sister. He’d had a sister that he couldn’t remember at all. It was odd to think about. A sister. He couldn’t help but think what things would be like now if he still had a sister. If that lorry hadn’t smashed into that car.

He couldn’t physically imagine having a sister. It had been Calum and no one else for as long as he could remember. He was always lonely - and knowing he had a dead sister wasn’t much help. He was still lonely but it was even worse now. His dreams were invaded with images of falling cars and shadowy girls, smashed glass and Nina crying, Paul shouting and snowman chocolate wrappers falling from the sky.

He still had the wrapper from the snowman Miss Miars had given him. It was slid between the slat and mattress on the bottom of his bed. He wasn’t sure why he kept it…but the chocolate had been such a magical thing Calum just had to remember it.

Not that Calum was very good at remembering things. He had completely forgotten Mali, the stubborn girl with long hair and a particular fondness for superheroes. He couldn’t remember her – or her promise to her parents that she’d look after him.

Neither could he remember the orphanage or the graves or the social worker who used to come and visit. He couldn’t remember meeting Nina, he couldn’t remember the smiles of Joy and David Hood, and he couldn’t remember the mobile of X-Men characters or the newspaper article about trees struck by lightning and cars exploding.

It was all in the past and Calum didn’t know any of it. 

For him, it was like it never happened.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some more stuff happened. Calum started school, discovered what Christmas is and incurred the worry of his teacher. Paul left his life – I can’t promise you’ve seen the end of him though.  
> And I’ve explained why he left – very vaguely a few chapters back.  
> The social worker doesn’t come anymore. It would probably be better if she did but something happened. So she doesn’t come. I’m using my artistic licence here, I have idea how this would happen in real life. But this is fiction. So I can make it how I like.
> 
> And you know what happened to Mali. I feel really bad for that. Mali-Koa is one of my favourite people ever. I have the biggest crush on her. 
> 
> Nina is drunk a lot. Once again sorry if you/anyone you now are called Nina. I don’t know what Australia/New South Wales schools are like but in my English Primary school drugs and alcohol were in a lot of assemblies and presentations. I’m pretty sure I had a faint idea of what being drunk was at age five. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
> This will change soon.  
> Maybe.  
> If you pray.
> 
> (I swear my notes are getting longer and longer)
> 
> This is a work of fiction. No profit is made. All characters are based on real people, the plot and situation is entirely fictional and not meant to offend. All writing is my own work.  
> All quotes are used with permission by Oxford Concise & Oxford University Press.  
> Please do not republish to other websites, claim as your own work, rewrite or use in anyway.


	8. Flying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is a tangled web of tears and secrets, fears and broken promises

> _‘I know that’s a secret, for it’s whispered everywhere’ - William Congreve_

 ***

At six years old Calum was still discovering the world. He knew it was a tricky place determined to confuse you and change things as quick as it could. But things seemed to be going at a steady pace. Nothing was great - nothing had ever been great – but things didn’t seem to be so abysmally bad.

Calum was relatively happy. Well not really. Something wasn’t right. He didn’t know what was wrong. He had a mum who would sometimes laugh and play with him and who’d spent the rest of the time out of the house or shut in her room. But she was still closer than she’d been to him in a long, long time. Maybe forever.

But he had a new toy frog so he was fine. The frog was purple and Calum called it Kuma. He got it for his birthday. It had been the first birthday present in as long as he could remember. His class always told him ‘happy birthday’ and sung to him and Calum had never really understood why. Nina had told him birthdays were to celebrate being alive and living for another year. She hadn’t looked too happy when she said that, her mouth smiling but her eyes sad. She never did proper, smiles with smiley-eyes.

It was Nina had given Kuma to him as well as a cake and a lot of ‘sorrys’. He wasn’t too sure why Nina was sorry but he liked the attention. She normally ignored him or left him on his to his own devices. It had been ages since she’s spoken to him, let alone spent time with him.

The cake was small and chocolate and probably from the local supermarket. It was a cake though. He had never had a proper cake before. Nina let him eat some for breakfast. She didn’t want any though. Shaking her head and covering her stomach with her slender hands when Calum asked. This had been odd because it was chocolate cake and food, two of the best things Calum had ever had and two things he didn’t get so much.

Calum had learnt not to question his mum though, not even in his head. Nina would get upset and freak out when he asked questions she didn’t like. She didn’t like most questions. Her attention made Calum flourish though. He hadn’t had attention, good attention for so long and he enjoyed it. He hated being alone, he hated being ignored.

Of course though, it didn’t last. His birthday was on a Thursday which meant school. School wasn’t so bad. He didn’t have any friends and spent the day on his own, break and lunch on the playground bench and lesson time on the edge of his seat at his aligned table. Lessons were still hard but Calum was too shy to ask for help. His reading was way behind everyone else’s and he still messed up colouring in the lines and counting on his fingers.

No one knew it was his birthday till his teacher brought it up. His cheeks flushed red and he ducked his head, shying out the way. He didn’t like people looking at him. It was like they suddenly remembered he existed. Sure he liked attention but not like this. He just got uncomfortable and red. He didn’t want their attention. He wanted his mum’s attention. He didn’t like them. They looked at him funny and ignored him and laughed when he did something stupid.

School passed. Miss Miars made his class sing happy birthday to him. Calum shifted uncomfortably through the whole thing.

His mum was there to pick him up from school. Seeing her Calum’s smile grew as he ran, throwing his arms around her legs. She smiled tightly, taking his hand and walking off. They walked in silence. Calum knew Nina well enough not to try to start a conversation.

For dinner that night he had cake again. And then breakfast and dinner the next day and then it was all gone. Nina had gone back to being sad and ignoring Calum. Calum tried not to let it bother him – he had Kuma now. He wasn’t alone.

But as the weeks went on and Nina didn’t talk to him or pick him up from school or even make him food Calum found himself growing more and more unhappy. She got drunk again on day, and then again and again and again. Calum tried to ignore her.

It wasn’t constant, she might get better. But as the year went on Nina spent more and more time with a bottle of alcohol and less and less time sober. She was ignoring Calum more than she ever had and Calum found himself longing for Paul to come back because they both hated Paul but Nina had paid more notice to him then.

Nina smashed the bathroom mirror one day. She smashed it with a patterned jug that used to sit on the window, full of fake, faded flowers. The glass was cracked and jagged and distorted the reflection into several images. It warped Calum’s face when he looked in it, stretching the picture and twisting it into something completely new.

It hadn’t been a particularly nice mirror but Calum was still troubled to why she’d done it. She didn’t mention it and showed no notice to wanting it replaced and Calum couldn’t help but think what a bad mirror it was with the web of silvery scratches that tore apart the surface. You couldn’t even see yourself in it properly.

Nina went out the house for several days and Calum was scared. He was actually completely alone. Nina normally would come back at night or early in the morning. But she wasn’t there at all – not even passed out in her bed. He was the only person in the house. But Kuma was there. Kuma was the best thing Calum had ever had. Kuma was something familiar, something always there. She was Calum’s only friend.

 ***

Seven was much the same as six. Everything was the same. He was in a new class now, with a new teacher who would frown when Calum tried to read what she told him too. He knew he was a bad reader, he knew he had a lisp and spoke funnily but it still wasn’t nice watching the woman frown at him.

The mirror was still smashed and the yellow room – Calum couldn’t call it his sister’s room because then he felt all burning and guilty and it wasn’t nice and he didn’t even know why- still had bars across it. From the outside of the house you could look up and see the faded purple curtains that were drew over the window. The curtains hadn’t been opened in years, they’d shut when Mali-Koa died and stayed shut. Six years now. Vaguely Calum wondered what the neighbours would think. The same old couple had lived the left for as long as Calum had lived there. He wondered if they’d noticed the curtains hadn’t been opened in six years and looked almost white as the sun had bleached the purple away you could only see it when you stood a certain way.

Nina still got drunk – more and more and more and Calum had taught himself how to use the microwave and toaster. The hob was harder and he didn’t even know how to start with using the oven. Nina had a job or something; she went shopping every now and then and would come back and restock the empty cupboards and fridge.

One of the living rooms light bulbs had stopped working a while back and Nina hadn’t bothered to fix it. Calum didn’t like going into the room when it got darker, there was only a light one side and the dark made everything seem so creepy.

Calum knew he shouldn’t be scared of the dark, the dark was a stupid thing to be scared of but he couldn’t help it. There was something about the lack of light that just hurt Calum, there could be anything hiding there and no one would know.

Calum had a lot of fears. The dark, smashed glass, just people in general. He found himself curling up and watching, watching and waiting for something bad to happen, like it always did. He got awkward and shy around people and they looked at him with questioning eyes and a habit of prying too much.

School was easy to miss – Nina didn’t seem to care when he didn’t go and sometimes Calum just couldn’t go. School had too many people, too many crowds and too much noise. School was full of small spaces and clashing opinions and so much noise. It made Calum feel sick. He got too claustrophobic; he got too antsy and tense. It was easier to not go. The school would ring the house phone though, when Calum didn’t go. Calum watched it and wouldn’t pick it up because then they’d know he wasn’t in school for sure. And Nina never bothered picking it up, she wasn’t really ever even in the house.

The ringing phone was never good news and it soon found a place in Calum’s nightmares, along with a pale, unconscious Nina and crowds of people following him, a dark shadow around and Paul’s laughter and shadowy figures that Calum couldn’t name although he knew who they were. Kuma was in them too, ripped up and trampled by the crowds that followed him.

Calum had nightmares a lot. He began to fear going to sleep, not wanting to see the images that flew through his brain while his body slept. He’d wake in the middle of the night again and again, crying in terror and clutching to Kuma and his bedsheets. There was never anyone to comfort him, he’d sit there clenched in terror with tears down his cheeks till he finally fell asleep or the morning and sunlight came.

 Something that annoyed Calum greatly came up as well. Calum looked completely different from Nina who had dark red hair and pale skin and hazel eyes. Calum didn’t. Calum’s skin was darkly tanned and his hair was dark and curly and his eyes were dark and he didn’t look anything like his mum. And he didn’t normally ask Nina questions but something wasn’t right here and he needed to know.

 He asked when Nina was actually home, rummaging through the kitchen to find something or else. She was slightly drunk, Calum could hear her humming to herself and she only did that when she’d had a little alcohol and it made her happy. He’d been cautious and shy but he’d asked.

‘Why don’t I look like you?’

So Nina, somehow for once not drunk as normal, told the story of how David and Joy Hood died in an accident, their car caught fire during a lighting storm and how Mali and Calum ended up in an orphanage which was where Nina adopted Calum from. Because they didn’t have any parents and no one seemed to want a baby boy and a little girl. But Nina did, she’d told Calum how she saw them and fell in love with them straight away. Calum was Scottish and Maori, that’s why he looked different to Nina who was Texan and Australian. That’s why Calum had dark skin and eyes and Nina was pale. It’s why Nina had red hair and Calum’s was black and stuck about in flicky, half-curls.

She then went on to talk about ‘Lottie’ a daughter she had had long ago whose father was someone bad called ‘Dean’ and ‘Lottie’ died and that’s why Nina adopted Calum. She cried a lot when she talked about ‘Dean’ and ‘Lottie’ and Calum cried too but he wasn’t that sure why. But it made sense, Nina not being his real mum and he would have maybe been angry at Nina for not telling but then she cried and Calum wasn’t. She talked about ‘Dean’ a lot after that and Calum decided he didn’t like him, he made his mum sad. Even if maybe Nina wasn’t his real mum.

And she’s had a hard life. Lottie had died at age four; Leukaemia Nina had hiccupped through her tears. And ‘Dean’ was in prison, he was a bad, bad man who’d broken the law and gotten involved with drugs and bad people. Nina had Lottie when she was nineteen; she’d been twenty-three when Lottie had died. And then she’d adopted Calum and Mali at twenty-seven, four years after Lottie had died. But then Mali had died too, and Nina had met Paul and he seemed like had was nice but he wasn’t and he’d cheated on her with younger girls and richer woman and Nina had had enough. She still missed him though, she admitted to Calum through the cascade of tears that were pouring down her cheeks.

Calum didn’t know what to say. It made sense that Nina wasn’t his real mum but it still hurt. She hadn’t told him before – she’d probably only told him because she was drunk.

He still loved Nina though, even if she wasn’t his real mum and didn’t talk to him that much and left him alone and got drunk. She still loved him – right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh so some secrets are out. I feel sorry for Nina here, she’s obviously a shit mother but there are some reasons there. Everything will be elaborated on as Calum gets older.
> 
> Calum gets nightmares now and that was honestly the hardest bit for me to write I used to have a nightmare disorder and gahhh, it was bad. Better now though. Yay, thank counselling. That I’m afraid isn’t going to appear in Calum’s life for a while. 
> 
> And he’s claustrophobic. Which I had to include. Because, I seem to be making some of my problems a lot worse and giving them to Calum. And I feel it needs to be discussed more.
> 
> This chapter’s kinda shitty and really not that long but Calum’s only 6&7 through this and very smol and not understanding of things still. 
> 
> A certain someone appears in the next chapter – as well as several other characters who’ve been missing from the line up so far. So yeah, stick around to read that if you like?
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please leave comments, they’re the best motivation I could ask for.
> 
> This is a work of fiction. No profit is made. All characters are based on real people, the plot and situation is entirely fictional and not meant to offend. All writing is my own work.  
> All quotes are used with permission by Oxford Concise & Oxford University Press.  
> Please do not republish to other websites, claim as your own work, rewrite or use in anyway.


	9. Gliding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calum's life is ever changing. He's found a light - or more so, a light's found him and maybe, just maybe things might be looking up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated so long. This chapter had just been sitting in my documents for ages but I just couldn't bring myself to post it. It's a really shitty one - everything I've written in the last month or two has been really shitty. Sorry, motivation levels are low.

> _‘Had I been present at the Creation, I would have given some useful hints for the better ordering of the universe’ - Alfonso the Wise, King of Castile_

 ***

At eight years old Calum was okay. His dad called Paul had disappeared a long time ago and he had soon learnt to not say ‘dad’ because then his mum- she was his mum right? Even if he wasn’t hers? - would she’d get upset and start freaking out. She freaked out a lot, screaming and crying and raging. Other times it was quiet – tears and vomiting, odd red lines up her arms.

Nina didn’t get so drunk anymore. Instead she just disappeared from present life. She wasn’t really there anymore, her mind left her body and she didn’t seem to notice.

It was odd, she’d been sitting on the couch with her eyes wide open but she didn’t register anything and didn’t notice any noise or touch Calum directed at her. Telling Calum about Dean and Lottie had broken something inside her more than she’d been broken before. Something about reliving her nightmares, being reminded about her past or something. Calum didn’t know why, he could only guess.

Eight years old was when Calum met Michael. Mikey was everything that Calum had ever wanted and they were the best friends ever. He’d been new to the school and sat next to Calum at break and then lunch and Calum couldn’t understand why the new kid wanted to hang round him. Michael just shrugged when Calum asked and offered him a fruit ring.

Quickly Michael and Calum became friends. Michael was the first friend Calum had ever had and the feeling of having someone was completely overwhelming and thrilling at the same time. He’d try to go to school every day because even though it was hard it meat he got to see Mikey which was totally worth it. He didn’t want Michael to leave him, like he probably would if Calum was never around. Calum actually had a friend and he was going to keep it that way.

Michael discovered Jackson Pollock – which of course made Calum discover him. He didn’t understand the symbolic stuff that their teacher talked about or all these ‘meanings’ but it looked nice. His work was messy but somehow with structure and reason. It was a mirror of his own life – even if he was too young to see it. Michael and Calum tried to recreate some of his work (“Not recreate” Michael had told him “Make our own inspired by. We just were inspired”. This had made Calum frown and say “But we are copying it Mikey” “Shh”) but Nina – you only called her mum when she was acting like a mum- freaked out. And it was a big freak out. Calum didn’t even know why, she didn’t normally care what Calum did and it wasn’t like they got paint on the walls or something. The splattery painting had been done on a piece of cardboard and they were very careful with the paints Michael brought over and didn’t get any of the floor or anywhere. And true, Calum had spatters on his trousers and face but they’d wash off.

But Nina had still freaked. She’d been emotionless when she’d came up the stairs, face blank. Her hair was pulled up in a bun and she had light eye makeup and something on her lips. She’d been out – and not alone. She’d been out – with somebody. Her features were at peace, she looked calmer than normal – maybe there was a hint of happiness under her thought. And then she’d seen them. And stilled.

“Wha-What are you doing?” The harsh tone her voice took was previously unheard by Calum who frowned in surprise.

“Jackson Pollock” Michael had replied brightly, waving his paintbrush to punctuate his point. Nina froze “No. No. Stop it. Stop painting. No painting. Why are you painting? You are not allowed to paint! No one in this house is allowed to paint! You can’t paint!”

“I’m sorry mum” Calum muttered. Nina had never got angry at him before.

She’d frowned, her hands clutching her ears “Go!” No painting! I said no painting! You’re painting. No. No. No!”

Michael gave Calum a wide eyed look and Calum just shrugged in response. He didn’t have an idea what was going on. Why was Nina so scared of paint?

“I said no!” She continued, oblivious to the fact that both boys stopped painting as soon as she’s arrived up the stairs.

Both boys stood there awkwardly before Michael stood up; dropping the paintbrush in the bag he brought “Uh, should I do? I’ll stay if you like, help tidy up…”

Calum shook his head “Go. Please”

Michael nodded, looking unsure as he hugged Calum and slung his bag over his back, making his way down the stairs quickly.

Nina frowned “Why did your friend go?”

“I, uh” Calum attempted “He-”

“It’s nice you have friends” She said, interrupting Calum “What was his name? Archie?”

“Uh, no mum. Michael”

“Michael” She agreed, nodding and looking proud “That’s what I said”

“Okay” Calum replied slowly

She didn’t seem to be paying attention to him, instead studying the painting on the floor. “What did Archie say this was?”

“His name’s Michael mum” Calum said quietly, before adding “And Jackson Pollock. It’s meant to be like Jackson Pollock”

“Jackson Pollock?” She shrieked “No! I don’t like it! No! No painting!”

Calum jumped back in surprise. She was acting weirder than possible.

“No Calum!” She continued “You can’t do that! You can’t paint! You’ll get hurt! You can’t get hurt Cal! Don’t get hurt! You can’t paint!”

“Okay mum” Calum said nervously “I won’t. Uh”

“No!” Nina was full-blown shouting now “No! You can’t get hurt! It can’t happen!”

She stopped abruptly, straightening up and walking downstairs too. A few minutes afterwards he heard the front door slam. Calum stood on the landing, paintbrush still in his hand blue dripping all over Michael and his ‘inspired’ Jackson Pollock.

Calum tidied up carefully. He didn’t know why the painting had freaked Nina so much – maybe she’d been drunk. He couldn’t think why he’d get hurt by painting. The again, Nina freaked out a lot and didn’t let him use the hallways lights because they’d hurt the birds. This made things hard when it was night and Calum needed to go to the loo or something.

The dark was scary and Calum hated it but Nina was scary when she freaked out and Calum hated upsetting her even more.

Nina didn’t come back for three days which was scary because Calum was all alone in their house in Sydney with no food or money or anything. She returned and acted like nothing had happened – and he heard her vomiting in the bathroom later that night.

That was scary too. Calum hated vomiting- and people were only meant to do it when they were ill. Maybe Nina was ill. Maybe that was why she was acting so odd. But she looked alright – she didn’t have a rash or chicken pox or anything that meant she could be ill. Maybe it was a silent illness. A mental one. They’d done a lot in school about mental illness – and if Calum was honest he’d admit the whole topic confused him. If mental illness was just when the brain was sick – why couldn’t it be treated like other things? Why couldn’t the nice school nurse make you a hot water bottle and tell you to go to sleep why she continued trying to contact your mum who didn’t answer. Why couldn’t you be better when you woke up even though your mum hadn’t answered and Karen Clifford has to take you home because apparently an eight year old walking through the city on his own wasn’t safe? Calum didn’t understand.

Michael apologised when Calum finally went back to school and gave him his cookie every day for two weeks afterwards. Calum told him that it didn’t matter and that they were friends still but Nina said he couldn’t come round. Honestly he was a bit shocked Michael still wanted to be friends with him.  And Michael had given him a funny look – “Why do you call your mum Nina?”

Calum had shrugged, not wanting to tell Michael who had two parents who spent time with him and that took him to the zoo for his birthday, that Nina wasn’t his real mum and she wasn’t the nicest and didn’t spend time with him and he hadn’t even known what a zoo was before Michael told Calum. Michael seemed to guess something though because they didn’t talk about Nina or Jackson Pollock again.

Somehow though, the school spent a lot more time asking Calum about him home life which he didn’t understand either. Why were they suddenly prying, why did everyone want to know everything? Even the nice school nurse had asked him how often his mum was around and did she pay him attention? Calum didn’t like it. He told them the truth – she was busy a lot and she loved him. Because that was the truth. The nurse had smiled and nodded and looked like she hadn’t believed him but she dropped the topic.

Which was good. Calum didn’t like the questions. Questions made things uncomfortable. You weren’t meant to ask questions, it made your mum said and Paul get angry. And even if Paul wasn’t around anymore that didn’t mean Calum wasn’t scared of him.

Michael had asked him once – why he didn’t like questions. And Calum had shrugged, biting his lip and looking down at his hands as he admitted ‘they upset my mum’. He didn’t feel the need to include Paul – Michael had no clue who he was and the sooner Calum forgot; the better. As it was, Michael hugged Calum and whispered ‘sorry’ because Michael knew that Nina was a bit odd and he tried not to upset Calum about it. Which was nice.

Mikey was everything nice. Calum didn’t know how he’d coped before him. Everything had brightened up with Michael around and Calum didn’t ever want to let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah.  
> So Nina was drugged up. And she’s crazy anyways. But Calum is only eight and doesn’t understand things properly. And I’m double his age and don’t understand things properly either.  
> Michael is here! Yay! And Jackson Pollock – I had to do it. Sorry it was a requirement of me writing this.
> 
> Please comment, it helps motivate.  
> I’ll try to update whenever. I have the next chapter already written but I still suck at updating. Whooh!
> 
> Thanks for reading,  
> x
> 
> This is a work of fiction. No profit is made. All characters are based on real people, the plot and situation is entirely fictional and not meant to offend. All writing is my own work.  
> All quotes are used with permission by Oxford Concise & Oxford University Press.  
> Please do not republish to other websites, claim as your own work, rewrite or use in anyway.


	10. Fainting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's always a light but lights can always go out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly unedited.

> _“Outside it was dark, but not as dark as it was inside of me.” – Anna N._

 ***

At nine years old Calum stayed for a sleepover Michael’s for the first time. A sleepover. At someone else's house.  He’d been nervous but the bright blonde boy was adamant it would be fun. Calum had been anxious to ask his mum – Michael had then offered to get Karen, his mum, to talk to Nina. Calum protested, telling Michael that it was fine and he didn’t want to upset her. Michael had narrowed his eyes to green slits, eyebrows furrowing into a carbon copy of his father’s. Calum decided not to mention it. Daryl Clifford was nice but still kind of scary – all dads’ where scary. They got angry easily and yelled and shouted – or at least Calum thought they did. He’d only ever known Paul so he really wasn’t that sure.

Paul hadn’t been the best dad. Calum couldn’t remember him so well but the nightmares did. They made him relive the punches and slaps and bitter, dark words every night. Calum had a lot of nightmares. Paul was in a lot of them. So was Nina – but never as a mum. She was always a slight figure, a ghost of sorts shadowing him, thin red hair fading into nothingness and empty eyes. There was normally glass too – smashed mirrors and windows, demons pouring through them and readying themselves to attack Calum. His dreams weren’t good and he could always remember them. A bright explosion, stars painted on the skies, swollen green eyes. They always had near enough the same things in them. Sometimes there would be new things – Calum’s old teacher Miss Miars standing on top of a staircase, all the animals Michael had described a zoo had charging at him, eyes a vivid red, drilling through him and disintegrating his soul to tiny, crumbly bits.

Michael was a new addition to his dreams. Often Calum wouldn’t even see him – just hear his laughter or catch a glimpse of his eyes. Calum wasn’t sure why Michael was in the dreams now; it wasn’t like he was a major feature in them. He’d just be there, hiding in the background. Occasionally, Calum would hear screams of pain, screams that belonged to Michael. Calum didn’t want Michael hurt – awake or in the nightmares. He’d run through the desolate emptiness that was the setting for every single one of Calum’s dreams. He’d never find Michael though – just hear him, maybe see a trail of blood or the remains of his jacket. He had a cool jacket. It was red and black and Calum had never had a cool jacket like it. Michael had offered to share but Calum told him not to, that it was Michael's jacket and Calum didn't even want one. (That was a lie. Calum would've loved a new jacket. All his clothes were old and holey and gross).

Calum didn’t want Michael to be in his nightmares. Michael didn’t deserve that, Michael was good and nice and bright. Michael was a bit like the sun; he lit everything up and made everything seem so much nicer. Calum didn’t mind school so much now he had Michael. Michael wasn’t scared to yell at the big kids for teasing Calum or to protest to a teacher who was growing annoyed with Calum’s inability to read and write properly. Michael always stuck up for him – and paired with him in everything. He clung to Calum with a fierce sense of protectiveness and it was odd because Calum had never had someone like that before. It didn’t mean he didn’t like it though – no, quite the contrary. Calum adored Michael, he longed to be with him with such a feeling he’d never felt before. He didn’t know why he was so attached to Michael, why he felt such a pull to him. He didn’t want it to end though. Michael was Calum’s Perseus. He was the hero brightening the world and scaring the Kraken away.

It was Michael and his mum Karen who helped Calum begin to learn to read. It was a slow process and Calum would so often get upset and frustrated with himself as he kept miss pronouncing things or losing his place. Other times, he'd be scared. He wasn't clever, he was stupid and he'd hate Karen and Michael to yell at him for messing up. Stupid people needed to be yelled at, so they knew how stupid and hopeless they were, how they're a failure and a waste of space. Paul was gone but his words remained and Calum didn't want to believe them, they weren't nice words. But there had to be a reason for them. To teach him to do better and be less stupid. But it didn't work like that because Karen and Michael were trying to teach Calum to read because Calum was still stupid and hopeless.

 They didn't yell though. Calum would get so incredibly scares that they would - he'd shrink down and mutter endless apologises and cover his face with his hands. They wouldn't yell though. Michael would calm Calum down with hugs and soft words and promises and Karen would pick the book up and they'd go through it again. Calum loved Michael and maybe he loved Karen. He was still scared of Daryl, he'd squeak and hide behind Michael or run away when he saw him but Michael always told such nice stories about Daryl and how kind he was and Daryl would only ever smile and be nice to Calum, that Calum began to think maybe he shouldn't be scared, maybe Daryl was okay. Maybe not all dads were like Paul.

It was Daryl who walked Michael and Calum home from school the day Calum was going to spend the night at Michael's. He had smiled and Calum and asked how his day was but not seemed to mind when Calum bit his lip and looked down, too shy and scared and worried to respond. Michael had talked enough for the both of them, rapidly fast and happily. Calum was too scared to contribute anything but Michael held his hand and squeezed it when he heard Calum whimper, as if to tell him that everything would be alright and he didn't need to be scared.

Calum’s bad dreams still happened when he was at Michael’s. He’d been hopeful, so hopeful that they wouldn’t, that a change of house would’ve scared them away. It hadn’t worked out like that though. It never went how Calum wanted.

Initially, everything had seemed like it would be okay. Calum had walked through the door awkwardly, duffle bag clutched in his hand, the strings dragging on the floor. Michael had been cheerful and happy as he led the way and Daryl went away somewhere. Michael took the bag off Calum after dropping his own on the floor and he'd practically pounced on Calum with large eyes and a bright smile. Calum found himself smashed into Michael’s chest while Michael tightened his arms around him and babbled about what they were going to do and Calum found himself smiling, thinking maybe it would be fun.

It was fun. The first bits at least. Michael showed Calum how to play Mario Kart because Calum had only played it once before and that was at Michael's too. He hadn't been good at it - he kept dropping the controller and driving off the end and was always twelfth place. Michael hadn't minded though, instead he'd dropped his own controller and helped Calum to move his, resulting in Calum being tenth and not last. Michael came last - he hadn't even moved his car from the starting line. He didn't seem to mind though, instead just cheering and whooping for Calum. Karen had stuck her head around the door when she heard Michael and she'd smiled at Calum and told him well done and Calum had felt his face burn red and he looked to the ground, mumbling a thank you but too shy to say anything else.

Karen didn't say anything about it though, just telling them that there was lasagna for dinner and was that okay? Michael had nodded enthusiastically and helped while Calum gave a minute nod and looked back down at the floor.

When Karen was gone, Calum looked at Michael worriedly.

"Mikey?" He asked his voice a little more than a whisper.

"Do you not like lasagna?" Michael responded anxiously - and louder.

Calum shrugged, lifting his shoulders up and letting them fall back down.

"You can say, no one will get cross" Michael reassured, trying to calm his tiny friend.

"I...I've never had it before" Calum felt like he was going to cry. He was being so stupid. He should have said nothing and just eaten it anyway.

"Cally" Michael breathed, pulling his arms around the now-sobbing Calum. "Hey it's okay. Lasagna is like sheets of pasta with sauce in between and cheese on top - just like bolognaise but in a different shape. You don't have to have it though, if you don't want to. I'll go and tell my mum that I want something else and then she won't know if you don't want her to. Yeah?"

Calum hiccupped, tiny fingers reaching up and trying to stop the tears. Michael waited, stroking Calum's hair gently while keeping him in his arms.

"I" Calum began, when the tears had slowed enough for him to speak "I want to try it. Only if it's okay though?"

“Of course it is!” Michael smiled. He once might've added a 'duh' or a 'you dummy' to the end of the sentence but he'd seen how Calum would slip into himself and his eyes grow large and wet and didn't want that to happen. Calum was sensitive and scared by most things and Michael didn't want to upset the fragile boy any more than by accident as everything else seemed to upset him.

Dinner, dinner turned out okay. Calum had been around Michael’s for tea a few times before – although it had never been lasagna. He was sat next to Michael and that was good, Michael’s knee comfortingly pressed against Calum’s own. Karen brought out dishes and plates, smiling at Calum as she handed him his plate. Calum blushed and ducked his head away, looking to investigate the ‘sheets of pasta’ thing. Daryl came in, asking what the boys would like to drink and Calum had squeaked and stuttered and looked away. Michael carefully translated, telling his dad that Calum wanted water please. Daryl smiled at them both and went out to get their drinks. And Michael smiled at Calum. Calum really loved Michael.

Michael continued translating through the whole dinner. Both Clifford parents kept the conversation open and easy, talking to Michael about simple, everyday things. Michael and Karen got into an intense conversation about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or something and Karen had turned to Calum and asked him gently, “Well, who’s your favourite Calum?”

It probably would have been an alright question if Calum knew that the turtle ninja things were. He didn’t however as was left stuttering anxiously as three pairs of eyes turned to look at him. Finally, finally he managed out to whisper “I don’t. I don’t know what those are. I-I’m sorry”

“Michael shall have to show you then” Karen said, trying to comfort the small boy “That is, if you want to know.”

Calum shrugged. He didn’t like decisions. Decisions were tricky and so often you upset someone when you said the wrong thing and Calum didn’t want to upset anyone, he didn’t want to make a fuss – he did that often enough already and that would be bad, he didn’t need to Michael and his parents to see how bad Calum was at everything because then maybe Michael wouldn’t want to be friends anymore and Calum wouldn’t be able to deal with that because it was Michael who helped him and loved him and looked after him in school and shared his lunch with Calum who didn’t ever have one and taught him to read and how to count without using fingers and how to use a computer and how to play Xbox and Calum would basically be helpless without him.

Calum didn’t know he’d started shaking and trembling in fear till Michael cautiously put a hand on Calum’s shoulder and patted him. Calum looked up, vision blurry with not yet fallen tears. Furiously he blinked them away; it would be stupid to cry about not knowing who some turtle ninjas were.

All three Cliffords were looking at Calum – and all were looking at him with concern. Calum felt himself shrink away, embarrassed by it all. He was such a weirdo. The rude kids in school were obviously right. Paul was right. Calum was just a failure.

Michael was looking even more concerned now and Calum could feel the tears dripping across his cheeks, he knew his furious attempts to stop crying had failed. And it only served to make him cry even more. Michael swept Calum up, wrapping him in his arms and it only made Calum feel worse because this was the second time he’d cried to Michael today and both Karen and Daryl were talking quietly and shooting him worried looks and Calum hated making a fuss.

Michael’s top was warm and slight fuzzy and Calum’s tears were making a damp patch. Calum tried to pull away, to save the fabric but Michael just pulled him tighter and ran his hands through his hair, dropping kisses on his forehead.

In Michael’s arms, Calum felt safe. It was probably the only place he’d ever felt properly safe and even though he could still hear the bullies taunts and words and Paul’s furious expressions, Michael made it better. Michael would surely protect him from it all. Michael would save Calum from it all and still be smiling as he did. Michael was Calum’s Perseus.

Calum told Michael that. Later, when his tears had stopped and he’s looked up from Michael’s top to see his parents were nowhere to be found. Michael asked Calum if Calum wanted to go home but Calum shook his head and told Michael, truthfully, that he’d like to stay.

So Michael smiled and took Calum upstairs and into Michael’s room where Daryl was putting out a futon bead and several duvets and he smiled so kindly at Calum and told him how nice it was to have Calum that Calum could feel his check burn red but it was an almost nice feeling, for once Calum didn’t feel so embarrassed but perhaps wanted?

Michael helped Calum find some pillows and a few extra blankets that he was quick to reassure Calum only had to have them if he wanted them. Michael’s house had heating which was new. Calum’s house didn’t have heating.

Then, once both boys were sat on Calum’s temporary futon bed, Michael had pulled all his own duvets on Calum’s bed as well and they were cuddled underneath them, some superhero cartoon playing on Michael’s TV, Calum told him.

“Mikey?” His voice was quiet and hesitant but Michael whipped his head rapidly and looked across at Calum with a worried look. Calum kind of hated that he made Michael worried so often.

“Yes Cal?” His voice was calm and peaceful and Calum could lose himself in it. It was different to Nina’s tearful hoarse voice or the strict, sharp one of his teacher Mr. Moore. It was different to the older kids’ brash, loud voices and the younger kids’ whiney, screeching ones. Michael’s voice was gentle and friendly and soft – always soft and rounded, he knew Calum didn’t like sharp and harsh noises, loud ones that pierced into his head and made him want to go and hide.

“Mikey? Do you know the story of Andromeda?”

“Andromeda?” Michael asked curiously, sounding the word out carefully. “No I don’t think so. What is it?”

And so, in a careful voice, Calum told him the story:

“Andromeda was a Greek princess. A long time ago this is. The books in school tell it the story of Perseus but my – my –Nina, she always told it as Andromeda’s story. Andromeda who was a princess. And her mum was the queen Cassiopeia and Cassiopeia was very proud and queenly. And there was another Princess, she was called Danae. And her son was meant to kill her dad, that’s what it said. So Danae was locked up but she had a son. Who was Perseus. And Perseus’s dad was Zeus who was the king of all gods. And when Perseus was a baby, he and his mum were cast out to sea. And a fisherman found them on a new place, and this new place was where Andromeda was princess”.

“And Perseus grew older and he was tough and Andromeda was growing older too – they were the same age or so. And Cassiopeia was the mean queen; she boasted her daughter was the prettiest. But lots of gods didn’t like that so the god of the sea, Poseidon, sent the Kraken to eat Andromeda. But Perseus saved her. He had a gorgon head see – a creature called Medusa’s who eyes turned things to stone. So he shone it at the Kraken and the Kraken was stone and killed and he freed Andromeda and they lived happily ever together and they’re both in the stars. So is Cassiopeia – although I never got that, she wasn’t very nice”.

“That’s a good story” Michael said “But how did Perseus get the gorgon thing?”

“Medusa” Calum said “And that was because there was yet another king who wanted to marry his mum but he wouldn’t let the king do that so the king sent Perseus to kill Medusa, thinking that Perseus would die and then he could marry Danae, the mum”.

“Ohh” Michael made a noise of clarity before scrunching his face up “So Perseus actually killed Medusa then? And then he saved Andromeda. What about the bit where he kills his grandpa?”

“Oh yes. He killed Medusa – but had help from Athena and Hermes. Who were gods but children of Zeus, like Perseus? And later one, much later on, there was a competition and he threw a spear or something but it somehow killed his grandad who was watching”.

“Whoa. What about the king who wanted to marry Danae – that’s the mum, yeah?”

“Perseus turned him to stone. I think.”

“This is a crazy story. But it’s more about Perseus isn’t it – not Andromeda?”

“No, I was just giving you background information. About Perseus. But it’s Andromeda’s story because she never wanted any of it to happen – it was her mum and the gods and others. She didn’t get a part, not for ages. Others controlled her for her.”

“Oh” Michael said “But she did get to be her?”

“Yeah, after Perseus saved her. And Cassiopeia realised her mistake”.

“Maybe it will be the same for you. Maybe you’ll get a Perseus and then your mum will notice”.

Calum felt his cheeks fill with red as he ducked his head down. “I already have a Perseus”

“You do?” Michael looked at him keenly “Who?”

“You” Calum whispered, hiding his head under his hands and hunching his shoulders over.

“Well that makes sense – apart from you’re far beautifuller than Andromeda”.

Calum flushed even harder, looking up at Michael with wide eyes. “Isn’t, isn’t that gay?” He hissed.

“Probably” Michael thought “But I don’t see what’s wrong with it.”

“But you shouldn’t be gay” Calum whispered, “He- he always said that...”

“He?” Michael asked, narrowing his eyes “Who’s he?”

Calum just shook his head, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“You don’t have to tell me” Michael said, after consideration realising that Calum wasn’t going to tell him anyways. “But you should know that he, whoever he is, is wrong. There’s nothing wrong with being gay – that’s what my mum says. Okay?”

“Are you sure?” Calum asked doubtfully

“I’m always sure!” Michael pointed out “And so is my mum. But I don’t think I am actually gay though. Esi in our class is very pretty”.

Calum wrinkled his nose, thinking of the slim brunette. She had freckles and dark skin and was never mean to Calum – but she didn’t seem to care that her friends were mean to him and she’d laughed the other day when Davy Martins pulled the chair out from underneath Calum and Calum fell on the floor.

“Do, do you not like her?” Michael asked “I always think she’s so cool. She has bright red shoes you know? And her name is so pretty – ‘Esi’. Do you not think that’s a pretty name?”

“I do” Calum said carefully, not wanting to upset Michael “But I don’t think she’s that cool”

“Well then” Michael said “Who do you think’s cool?”

Calum wanted to say ‘you’ but he couldn’t help but feel that was too gay and maybe Michael was wrong when he said it was okay.

“Uhh, Caeli Untah” Caeli was pretty. She was red hair and green eyes that were a bit like Mikey's and she never paid Calum any attention but that was better than actually getting attention.

“Caeli Untah? No way! Esi is much prettier than Caeli! Esi is Ghanaian and cool!”

“Do you even know what ‘Ghanaian’ is?” Calum asked

Michael flushed “It’s a place in Africa. Esi’s African. That’s much cooler than just boring Australian”.

“I’m Maori” Calum said softly “That’s not Australian”

“No it’s not” Michael agreed “Maori is cool too. New Zealand” He smiled at Calum “I bet Esi doesn’t know what Maori is or that it’s not as cool as her”.

Calum found himself smiling in response. He thought that maybe he could deal with Michael liking Esi – as long as he still spent time with Calum. Which he probably would. Michael always told that they’d be friends forever and that nothing could come between them. Not even pretty Ghanaian girls with bright red shoes.

If only they knew what was to come.

It was later, when Michael had stopped talking about Esi and other girls and that their superhero cartoon had finally finished that Karen knocked on the door and push it out. Calum’s initial reaction was to hide. He didn’t know what had happened to have Karen be angry at them but he’d rather be under his duvet if she yelled.

She didn’t yell though. Curiously Calum stuck his head out. She was looking at Michael and the room with a rather exasperated grin.

“It’s time for bed now boys” Her voice gave away the smile in it. Her eyes were smiling too – it wasn’t fake. Why was she telling them when to go to bed?

Michael attempted to roll his eyes but he nodded anyways “We will. Will do our teeth and then get into bed. And then can you come and tuck me in?”

“Of course” Karen was still smiling. “I’ll be back in ten then”.

And she left and Michael led Calum into the bathroom and showed Calum his Spiderman tooth brush and both boys brushed their teeth although Calum’s toothbrush was old and faded blue and not that cool, certainly not as cool as Michael’s.

Already in their pyjamas, Michael pulled his own bedding back onto his own bed and straightened Calum’s own blankets. Then both boys snuggled in their respective beds, the light still one and bright as Michael told Calum that:

 “Mum will do it when she tucks us in” Michael hesitated “You don’t think I’m silly do you? Having my mum still tuck me in?”

Calum looked up at Michael’s head which was leaning out of its own bed and over Calums. His face was slight wonky from the angle and his hair was falling into his eyes. Calum then blinked, large brown eyes shutting and opening, remarkably dark lashes framing them.

“What?” Calum began “What is ‘tucking in’?”

Michael opened his mouth – perhaps to tell Calum what it is or to ask him why he didn’t know – when Karen walked back in. She bent down to kiss Michael on the forehead and smooth his duvet, whispering to him goodnight.

Then, then she bent down next to Calum. The tiny boy was rather embarrassed and more than slightly bemused. Karen smiled brightly at him though, and straightened his blanket.

“Sleep well Calum, yeah?” She said softy “Are you comfy?”

Blushing, Calum furiously nodded his head. Karen smiled once more and stood up, walking up and turning the light off. “Night boys!”

“Night mum” Michael called back quite happily. Calum said nothing, just snuggled into the weirdly warm bed and sighed. It was dark and he didn’t like the dark but the door was left open so the hallway light was there – so it wasn’t pitch black. He still didn’t really like it though. To distract himself he asked Michael a question that had been bugging him for the last ten minutes or so.

“Mikey?” His voice was little more than a whisper. “Mikey, why does your mum do that?”

“Do what?” Michael asked, voice louder than Calum’s and obviously not worried about his parents coming in “Say goodnight?”

“Yeah. And the kisses and stuff”

“All mums do it? And my dad does when she can’t. It’s normal Cal – just saying goodnight”.

“Oh” Calum’s voice was even quieter.

There was a pause. “Cal?” Michael spoke cautiously “Why haven’t you ever had lasagna before? Why do you always have to have my lunch? Why is your toothbrush so old? Why doesn’t your mum pick you up from school? Why does your mum not tuck you in? Cal why don’t you call your mum, mum?”

There was another pause, a longer stagnating one. Calum could feel his chest tightening and his eyes watering as Michael pointed out all his faults – all the things that Calum had always though normal but obviously weren’t because it wasn’t like that for any of the kids – and certainly not Michael.

“Please Cal?” Michael’s voice was sad and worried and Calum hated making Michael sad. He could never refuse Michael either. Biting his lip, Calum looked up at the shadowy lump that was Michael. He couldn’t tell him either.

“My mum’s name is Nina. She’s not my real mum you know?” It came out sharper then intended, if a lisp could be sharp at all. “And she’s just a bit sad. She’s like Danae in the story I told.”

“Okay” Michael’s voice was unsure and Calum supposed that could be expected as his excuse was shoddy at the very most. “If you say so Cal” Michael sounded older and wiser than he ever had before and suddenly Calum was scared.

If Michael knew all the bad things in Calum’s life, he’d surely leave.

Calum’s voice was bolder, leaking fake confidence and determination. “Yes, yes I say so”.

Michael didn’t need to know that Calum had his fingers crossed under the duvet. What Michael didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Calum fell into a fitful sleep that night. Tossing and turning on the futon all he could see was an endless crowd of monsters and demons, Michael’s voice laughing as he commanded then to ‘catch the freak!’ Calum was running but all the ways were barred shut. Desperately he looked around – and there was a hole in the ceiling. He could escape easily! But even as he looked, bars were folding across it and nailing themselves in place. Nina was somehow there controlling them – screaming and crying as she did, telling Calum that he had to be safe, that the cage she was making was to protect him. There were people from school – stupid Esi and Caeli Untah and all the bullies – walking up to him and poking him though the bars and laughing and pointing. He was just some game – some abomination. Paul's deep voice could be heard easily, sneering as he informed Calum that an abomination would all he would ever be.

Calum was screaming and beating the bars and nothing would move and he was trapped as the never-ending darkness drew closer and closer, taunts and yells and screeches surrounding him and all too loud – Calum hated loud noises and needed to cover his ears but he couldn’t because  the bars were building around them and trapping him and Nina was screaming how it was to keep him safe, safe not like Mali and it was all so loud – far too loud and Calum was desperate, tears streaming down his face as he wriggled like an electric eels or something, determined to escape. The metal was tight on his wrists and scratching into them and it hurt, everything hurt and it just –

Calum woke with a gasp. His cheeks were wet and his pillow soaked and the room was dark. He lay still, listening to Michael’s breathing and his own frantic heartbeat. And even after his heartbeat calmed down and the tears stopped, he stayed awake. It was all too scary too sleep and the night moved into the early hours of the morning and Calum was still awake, fighting fatigue because sleep was too scary.

Life was always scary and when he was with Michael, normally, Calum could hide from it and pretend that maybe most things were okay. But it never properly worked and as soon as night returned he was all alone. Alone, trapped in his own head with nought but a multitude of demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You cannot believe how much I wanted to put ‘smol boy’ or ‘tiny fairy child’ or ‘lil bean’ when describing Calum. The internet has gotten to me. 
> 
> So I updated for the first time in like 4 months. Sorry about the wait. I did kinda warn you.   
> Thanks for all these lovely comments and the kudos’s and everything though, during this unofficial hiatus. I’m gonna try to be updating this more regularly – but I have exams soon. So maybe not.
> 
> Thanks for everything though, it means a lot <3
> 
> And I’m making a playlist for this – if you have any songs to rec, please comment them! I’d love your input xx


End file.
